Under New Management
by knee-knee
Summary: New gangs are threatening to tear Boston apart and it's up to the Irish Mob to restore tradition before there is all out war. Is their boss, Maura Isles, up to the challenge? Can Jane Rizzoli handle the heat when she falls in with Maura's crowd or will she stick by BPD as her brother, Frankie, hunts down those responsible for the steadily climbing body count? (Rizzles all the way!)


A/N: Hey gang, so it's been ages since I've written and this idea won't leave me alone. I know a few people have given it a shot before me but this is my interpretation of the whole 'like father like daughter' prompt.  
Disclaimer: Rizzoli & Isles is not mine... yada, yada, yada...

**Chapter One**

For such a short woman, Maura Isles was a terribly intimidating figure. Even in her heels she barely reached Jane Rizzloi's shoulder but, the quietly calculating look in her eye and the air of confidence she exuded with each movement, indicated that this was not a woman to trifle with. Maura spoke almost softly - neither cold nor warm - and quickly, a habit developed from having people hanging on her every word since she was barely eighteen. Jane wondered whether she was a dancer, her shapely legs and grace certainly alluded to that. Carefully, Jane set her toolbox down on a nearby table, slightly worried that it might scuff the polished wood, and then followed Maura behind the bar of _The Tortoise & Hare_.

'As you can see,' Maura gestured at the battered pipes below two of the beer pumps, 'I had a man look at it but all he managed to do was make it worse.'

'Yeah, it doesn't look great.' Jane crouched, squinting into the shadowed alcove before tugging a small torch from her chest pocket. The beam cut through the gloom and she saw just how big the job was going to be.

'I was hoping you could get it done sometime this week,' she stepped aside to allow Jane a closer look and rested a hand on the bar top. 'We're set to open on Friday and it's vital everything goes smoothly.'

'That's awfully soon Ms Isles,' Jane stood up, tucking her torch away and feeling her kneecaps pop. 'I could get hold of the parts easily enough but it's going to take me a while, maybe three or four days, to get it sorted.'

Maura sighed, folding her arms across her chest and frowning. 'Get it done in two and I'll double your payment.'

'Well...' Jane hesitated, getting the job done that fast would mean pulling at least one all-nighter but she could definitely use the money. 'Alright Miss Isles, deal.'

'Excellent,' Maura smiled, a slight dimple forming at the corner of her mouth, 'I shall arrange for a colleague to let you in tomorrow morning and I will be in around lunch time to see how you're getting on.'

Jane nodded quickly and stepped out from behind the bar, swiping her palms on her overalls and staring at her boots until Maura had gone past, leading her toward the door. As Jane picked up her toolbox, for all the use it had been, she was relieved to see that it had left no scuffs. Maura held the door open for her and Jane bid her farewell, squeezing past awkwardly. Maura watched her leave, mildly amused when Jane looked back at her over her shoulder and stumbled on a paving slab. When Jane had disappeared around the corner Maura closed and locked the door, then walked back to sit at the bar on a high stool.

Just as Maura tucked the keys away in her handbag the door to the cellar opened, squealing on its hinges, and in walked a procession of shady men. She glanced up at them, nodding to one in a tailored charcoal suit who picked up a wine glass, and turned to face the others as they took their seats at the pub tables. They were a ragtag bunch; both old and young, handsome and ugly, but all were smartly dressed.

'Hello gentlemen,' a glass of fine red wine was handed to her, 'thank you Raymond and thank you all for coming. Have a drink and let's get started.' She watched Raymond return the wine bottle to its ice bucket and begin to hand bottles of Blue Moon out. 'I know you'd all rather have a pint but I'm afraid the pumps are still out of order, though I know Eddie tried his best.'

'Sure he did,' said one man and a few others laughed, slapping Edward Brady on the back and ruffling his perfectly coifed hair. He scowled, hands whipping to his head to assess the damage. At twenty-six he was the youngest here and they never let him forget it, good natured though their ribbing was.

'Leave him be, at least he tried,' they obeyed, sipping their beers as silence fell and Maura stood up, setting her glass down on the bar. 'We have a problem, one we have been monitoring for a while now but I feel action is required immediately. The European sex traffickers must be stopped, that is not how these streets were run in the past and that's certainly not how they will run now. It is dangerous, degrading and it's bringing the heat down upon our own businesses. Martin,' Maura looked at a man in the far corner who sat up straighter, 'how many times have the BPD busted our cocaine runs this month?'

'Three, three times Miss. The gangs keep using the same routes we do, obviously we've left the hot areas now but that means our productivity is dropping. Add to that the fact that the gangs are dealing lower-grade gear for a lower price and our demand is slipping.' He shook his head and gripped his beer bottle tighter.

'Well then, that settles it, we must take them out of the equation. We've spent far too long building up our operation, sacrificed far too much...' Maura paused, everyone suddenly looked solemn and she grabbed her wine glass again, 'too much to let it all be overthrown by amateurs. We will crush them, we'll take back what is ours and we will reinstate ourselves as the true power in Boston.' She raised her glass and the others followed suit.

'For Paddy!'


End file.
